Let’s meet in another life
I read somewhere, "Don’t be my mother again, and enjoy your life."
However, I’m selfish.
When my mother gave birth to me, I felt love the moment the world’s air touched my skin.
I first got butterflies in my stomach when I watched my parents smile at me. Their touches helped me value the worth of living.
Some may argue that they want their mothers to experience the things they believe they want to do, but what if she genuinely wanted a child? What if she sincerely begged God to send her a kid, and your response is to urge God to do the opposite?
That would make them feel neglected by their own flesh.
Growing up, I faced the same difficulties as everyone else, but I was fortunate to have the most supporting mother.
“I am my mother’s hardship and was born by her blood and tears.”
I’m selfish. If I had to choose who would be my mother in my next life, I would choose MY MOTHER.
I still want to see her smile, laugh, cry, and get angry. I want to have my firsts with her again. And if God allows it, I’ll give her the things she deserves that I haven’t given her in this lifetime.
I’d give her the diplomas or certificates, let her have the experience of handing me medals on stage again, and I’d like to blow out my candles every birthday for the rest of my life with her by my side.
Therefore, I am selfish. If others think otherwise, then I’m different.
Because, after all, she was a mother.
